Give Her Hope
by Ami L. Mendal
Summary: Ginny is bent, not broken. Remus helps her heal. (Mention of rape)


She needed to be protected. She needed to feel safe, secure, and loved. Between the reality of her life and the dreams at night, she was sick of feeling vulnerable. Always a target, always a questionable girl.

She could see it in their eyes; she knew they wondered if she was okay, or even if she was still being possessed. She hated their doubt while she craved their love.

In the quiet of my office, I gave her what no one else would. I gave her someone to talk to. I gave her someone to lean on, cry to, and worse.

"_Why can't they just…understand?" she asked, her fiery hair curling slightly at the ends. Her fingers are playing idly with a grindylow figurine from my desk._

"_No one else can truly know what you went through, Ginevra."_

"_Ginny,"_

"_My apologies."_

"_But they could try. They could try to put themselves in my position. Can't they just leave it alone?"_

_I sigh through my nose, emanating patience and serenity. I hope to impress these feelings unto her. When I do not respond, she stops fiddling and makes eye contact. Her eyes bear into mine and I can see desperation._

"_Ginny-"_

"_Don't say my name like that! Please!" I'm startled and it shows. "Don't say my name with such pity, I can't stand it!"_

_She chucks the grindylow figurine across the room like a discus, shattering into tiny shards, ready to be stepped on._

_I try to not flinch as she grabs another, throwing it to the floor by her feet. She will destroy my entire office should I let her._

_And I do._

I try to shake the past from my reverie, attempting to replace it with something else. **Anything** else. I glance around Grimmauld Place, hoping to spark some ingenious thought and run with it.

But I have nothing. Only the fire crackling in front of me is of any inspiration and the red flame reminds me of her hair.

_She's pulled it back in a loose bun, simultaneously making her look tired and crazed. I can smell the pheromones on her; she'll have her first blood very soon, and I know that is stress she does not need._

"_Everything's different now," she says softly. She is wiser behind her years and that is _so_ unfair._

_I say nothing. It seems none of my words have made her feel better before and I fear I am losing her to the darkness of her past. _

_ Her eyes have lost their usual spark, and her fair skin is paler than is healthy. "This is where you say something poetic and profound. Something that annoys me. Something like, 'If it wasn't different, things would never change.'"_

_I fold my hands in my lap. She doesn't blink, waiting for me to speak up._

"_And then what would happen?" I ask._

_She bites the corner of her lip, wary of my tactics. She really is rather brilliant._

"_After your _words of wisdom_," she says sarcastically with a slight roll of her eyes, "I give an emotional and completely unreasonable response."_

_I nod once, a kind of approval for her to do so. She's wary again, but is true to her word._

"_If things didn't change, I wouldn't have to change. And things could be normal. Things could be okay! I could just be Ginny. I could be twelve years old for Merlin's sake!"_

_I smell the blood, more profound than ever. I have no idea what to do._

"_Professor, please say something."_

_If I look contemplative, it's because I am hoping she will realize her body is changing as we speak. If I look worried, it's because I don't want to be the one to have that conversation with her. If I look scared, it's because _Merlin help me_, I don't want to be here when she discovers the blood that is sure to find its way on the desk she sits on._

"_Professor Lupin! Are you going to talk to me or just let me spin myself into stupid circles?"_

A harsh knock snaps me back to reality and I am grateful, so very grateful, that even if Snape were back from the dead and on the other side of the door, I would wrap my arms around him in a brotherly embrace.

Opening the door, I almost prefer Snape to the sight before me.

It's her.

It's Ginny. Twenty years old and right in front of me.

What have I done to deserve this?

"Remus!" She launches herself at me in what is barely described as a hug. Only then do I feel the wetness on her face.

She's been crying; her eyes, so full of life on any other day, are bloodshot and glazed with tears.

"What's wrong?" I ask, desperate to calm her nerves and quell her tears.

"I-…. I was-"

She chokes on her words, her hand covering her mouth as more tears streak down her face. I take a moment to take a look at her, a proper look: her hair is disheveled, her shirt ripped in two places, and the nearly-new jeans have a bad tear in the knee.

"Ginny, it's okay. It's okay, whatever it is." I pull her to my chest, hoping the words and sounds my mouth is making are of a comfort to her.

She cries into my shirt. Not for the first time.

_"Professor Lupin…" she says, her knuckles grazing over the door before seeing it useless. I look up at her, pausing my task of packing personal belongings. "Please don't go."_

_ I offer a warm smile, although my cheeks hurt to do it._

"_It's for the best," I say simply._

"_No, that's not true! It's not what's best for me. I need you. You've made things better, you've made…_me_ better."_

"_Ginevra,"_

"_Ginny,"_

"_My apologies," I say with the slightest of grins, hoping she recalls one of our first conversations._

_I see the recognition in her brown eyes, as well as the respect._

_We stand there, silently, at an impasse. She stares at me with a fire I can only name as 'hopeful' before losing her strength and dropping her eyes to the floor._

"_I need you," she repeats. "Otherwise I'm just some strange, stupid girl-"_

"_You are neither strange nor stupid."_

_I reach her as the first tear falls, and she cries into my shirt._

"R-Remus…I was-"

"I know."

It is of little comfort, not making her say the words aloud. But I can smell the pheromones and the adrenaline and the fear.

Only part of it is hers, and I know she was raped.

"I'm s-scared," she whispers, her hands trembling on my collar.

She needed to be protected. She needed to feel safe, secure, and loved.

"I know."

I can give her what no one else will. This time it's not just someone to talk to. It's not just someone to lean on, or cry to, or worse.

This time, I'll give her hope.

-.-.-

Female character challenge: Georgina Kirrin (Ginny)

Test Your Limits Competition: theme 'memory'

Platonic Relationship Challenge: prompt 'smile'

Star Light, Star Bright: black hole "destruction of something"

The Hunger Games Trilogy Competition: District 10 "write about someone not getting what they need"


End file.
